


You'll Be Mine Forever

by icedragon822



Category: Code Name Verity - Elizabeth Wein
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-07-10
Packaged: 2018-06-08 06:57:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6843895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icedragon822/pseuds/icedragon822
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My imagining of what may have happened when Julie came to visit Maddie in Stockport, and beyond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. DAY ONE

**Author's Note:**

> This piece has been quite fun to write- I hope that it's just as much fun for those reading it!
> 
> All the credit goes to Elizabeth Wein, who gave us the wonderful book that is Code Name Verity, and the characters of Maddie and Julie, who have become like old friends to me.

DAY ONE

Julie

The weekend that I had leave was going to be absolutely beastly. Cold and damp, with sleet that looked as if it wasn’t going to let up for days. Didn’t matter to me, though- I was going to be warm and dry, first on the train chugging up to Scotland, then later snuggled up in my eiderdown in my familiar four-poster in my bedroom at home. I hadn’t told Mother that I was coming to visit for a few days. In my line of work, leave is never a guarantee. Wouldn’t want to get her hopes up, only to dash them later. I had planned on it being a surprise.

Good thing I didn’t tell Mother I’d be coming, because the morning that I was supposed to leave, I decided to go to Stockport, to spend my three days of leave with Maddie instead. Not sure what it was exactly that changed my mind. Perhaps it was the fact that I received a letter from Maddie the day before. I hadn’t seen her in months, not after she left Maidsend to join the ATA. I admit I was rather a mess when she left. I must’ve looked like a distraught schoolgirl, with my sniveling and grasping her hands and begging her to write at least once a week. Maddie was an absolute darling- she wrote me TWICE a week, including all of the interesting details of her life, from stories about the other pilots she met on her ferrying runs that had me laughing out loud to describing her motorbike rides and cozy nightly cocoas with her gran and granddad. I wrote back just as often, of course, but I could tell her almost nothing about what I was doing- I’m sure the censors blacked out most of it. But I loved relishing in the little details of Maddie’s life, the relative normalcy among my chaos (although we all know, nothing is REALLY normal during a war). I missed her more than anything, and absolutely lived to get her letters.

If it wasn’t receiving Maddie’s letter, maybe it was overhearing those two pilots chatting about the weather.

“Rotten weather,” one of them said. “Nearly all of the pilots in England will be grounded for two days, and that’s a low estimate. Might be more. Can’t fly in this mess.”

I knew one pilot who was going to be awfully disappointed about being grounded. Maddie LOVED flying- lived for it, really, just like I lived for her letters. That’s half of what she wrote to me about- how beautiful it was in the air, what she saw down below, how she detested being grounded even for a day. I knew that two or three days without flying would put her in a despairing mood. I could just imagine her, spending her days aimlessly wandering in and out of the house, tinkering with the engine of her motorbike, trying to knit some mittens but finding it all terribly boring. Maybe a visit from her long-lost best friend would cheer her up a bit. I know that if SHE were suddenly to show up HERE, I would absolutely break down in tears of joy. 

That settled it- Scotland could wait. I left the base with one suitcase and wearing civilian clothes. It was SO nice to be in something other than my WAAF uniform- woolen hose to block out the cold, my favorite skirt and blouse from my university days, a wonderfully warm double-breasted coat that was so much more fashionable than those horrid men’s jackets that they gave us as part of our uniform, and a hat that made me look terribly dashing, if I didn’t say so myself. 

I marched up to the ticket counter at the train station, gave my most charming smile to the gent behind the glass, and said “One for the next train to Stockport, please.”

 

Maddie

GROUNDED. I couldn’t believe that I was actually GROUNDED. And for three days at that. DRAT DRAT AND DOUBLE DRAT. 

The leading officer at Barton told me to go home, to come back on Monday when the weather had cleared. Everyone knew that it was going to be a beastly weekend, sleeting and raining and just being generally wet and cold. I understand why they didn’t want us to fly- wouldn’t want to kill myself over something as trivial as sleet (it had happened before, to much more experienced pilots), but it didn’t keep me from feeling awfully blue. I rode my motorbike home and actually had to pull over behind a fence and have a good cry for a minute before carrying onward. For an ATA pilot and a former WAAF officer I can be such a BABY at times. Ridiculous. 

At half-one, I was in the sitting room trying to work on a new pair of mittens. I’d never been a particularly good knitter, but it was something to do. Grandad was still at the bike shop and Gran was out visiting friends, so I had the house to myself for a few hours. Usually I wouldn’t mind having some peace and quiet, but it just made me all the more lonely. I was thinking about writing Julie again. I had already written her twice this week, but she wouldn’t think a third time was too much. She loved my letters, she told me so every time she wrote me. Hers had gotten rather strange in the past few months, half of it blacked out like it had been through the censor. Not sure WHERE she was or WHAT she was doing, but I’m sure it was something absolutely-top-secret, else she wouldn’t be censored like that. Also, I had to send my letters to her mother first, to the castle in Scotland, before they got sent to her. No clue where she was stationed- not Maidsend, to be sure! 

I missed her awfully. I hadn’t seen her in months. The last time we were together was at Maidsend, before I took the train to receive my ATA training. She pulled me over to a quiet spot, where we could say goodbye privately. She was crying- I had never seen her cry like that- eyes red, face blotchy, letting her tears fall down her face without bothering to wipe them off. Just like me whenever I came under fire, but not SCARED, just SAD. She kissed me all over, from my left cheek to my forehead to my right cheek, getting her tears all over MY face, too. She said the kisses were for all the times in the coming months that she wanted to greet me with a quick peck, but wouldn’t be able to because we’d be apart (Julie almost always greeted me with a kiss on the cheek- dead affectionate, didn’t think twice about it). She kissed both of my hands and pressed them against her cheeks, then grasped them tightly and asked me to write her. 

“Just once a week, that’s all. Just need to know that you’re safe and healthy. And you had better let me know if anything happens- if you get shot down or crash your motorbike or get polio or break your leg while going down the stairs. I don’t care where I am or what I’m doing, I’ll come to you if you need me. Swear I will.” Julie had connections, and I knew, just KNEW, that if I needed her, she would find a way to come to me.

I was pretending to knit and pining about Julie when I heard the knock on the door. I sighed in annoyance- it was probably one of Gran’s friends, busybody ladies who thought that it was improper for a young girl like me to be flying planes, always complaining that my hair was unruly and I wore trousers too much and that I’d never get a good lad if I didn’t care about my appearance. I could hear Julie now- “BITCHES, the lot of them. Don’t listen to a word they say. You’re perfect just as you are- I know it and you know it and everyone should know it.” At the second, more insistent knock I groaned and climbed out of the chair I was sitting in, preparing to tell Mrs. So-and-So that Gran was out for the day and to come calling again tomorrow. 

However, when I opened the door I was not greeted by one of Gran’s awful friends- I was greeted by JULIE. I must’ve looked like an idiot- I blinked several times and gaped at her, my mouth hanging open, not sure if I was imagining things or not. It sure looked like her: blonde hair in a neat French chignon twist, impeccable straight white smile, red lipstick. She wasn’t wearing her WAAF uniform, but an extremely fashionable and warm-looking civilian getup. 

“Fancy a houseguest for the weekend?” she asked, indicating a suitcase that she held in one hand. “Got leave for a few days and thought you might be grounded with the weather, too.”

I was still in shock. Julie HERE, at my house? In Stockport? I couldn’t believe it. Somehow I managed to motion to her to follow me inside, shutting the door behind us. Once we were in the foyer, I reached out and placed a hand on her cheek, just to make sure that she was there, REALLY there. She closed her eyes and smiled, leaning into my touch, then tilted her head and placed a kiss on my palm, soft and warm. She opened her eyes, smiled wickedly, threw off her hat, and before I knew it she had me dipped over in a Hollywood-like swoon, placing wet and smacking kisses all over my face, cheek to forehead to cheek and back again, just like she had done the last time we saw each other. Except this time, when she brought us up for air, she was laughing her loud, contagious laugh. No tears from her this time. 

“I’m afraid I’ve gotten lipstick ALL OVER your face,” she half-shouted, laughing. “No worries, it matches your skin tone quite well! Perhaps I’ll let you try some of it on.” 

But then she caught sight of my expression and the laughter stopped- I was trying not to blub. “Oh Maddie, darling, I didn’t mean to upset you!” She dropped her suitcase and embraced me, and I couldn’t help myself- just burst into tears and sobbed into her shoulder. 

Julie glanced around, looking for a spot where we could sit. She led us to the settee in the sitting room, where she pulled me into her lap and let me cry in her arms (we must’ve looked rather ridiculous, as I’m a few inches taller than Julie). I was a mess, just like Julie when I left her at Maidsend- loud, gasping sobs, nose running, getting her nice outfit all wet with my tears. I AM SUCH A BABY SOMETIMES. She stroked my hair and kissed my cheeks where the tears fell and whispered I-don’t-know-what’s into my ear, her lips tickling the skin there. After a few minutes of crying, I calmed down enough to speak.

“Sorry, sorry! God, I don’t know what came over me. I’m not upset. Just so happy to see you that I didn’t know what to do, and that’s what came out.” I burrowed my head against her neck for a moment, breathing in her scent. She usually wore Chanel No. 5- always terribly chic and put together- but underneath the perfume she smelled like what could only be described as JULIE, a scent unique to just her. It made me feel better, anchored me back to the here and now. 

Julie placed a kiss on the top of my head and squeezed my shoulders. “No apology needed,” she whispered. “You know it’s always fine if you need to cry in front of me.” I noticed that she had shed some tears of her own as well. “I knew you weren’t really upset- I would have had the same reaction, had you showed up where I was.” 

“Now then, Brodatt” she said suddenly a few moments later, wiping her cheeks, straightening her shoulders, and putting on her best impression of the head WAAF officer at Maidsend (who we used to mercilessly mimic when she wasn’t present.) “We’re all done with tears. Only happy times ahead for the rest of the weekend, and that’s an order!”

That got me to laugh. I hugged her again, briefly, pressed a quick kiss against her cheek, and then climbed off her lap and pulled her off of the settee. 

“If you’re planning on staying the weekend, then you best get a tour of the house. Starting first with a place to hang your coat!” 

 

Julie

That first afternoon at Maddie’s house was the most fun I’d had in a long while, perhaps since the start of the war. 

After the emotional first few minutes of our reunion, both of us were in a prime mood. Maddie hung my coat on a coatrack by the front door, and then rang her Granddad at the shop and told him that I would be visiting for the weekend. He told her that he was going to have a surprise for her when he came back- the anticipation of what it could be made us giddy (Maddie was hoping it was extra petrol so that she could take me out on her motorbike. I was rather hoping it was a cake).

She then proceeded to give me a long and rather hilarious tour of her home. She pointed out EVERY detail of EVERY room- from a story about how her Gran had acquired a particularly ugly chair for the sitting room for free (I loved it- said it had character- but Maddie obviously detested it) to how the large scratch in the kitchen wall came to be when she tried to ride her bicycle inside on a rainy day. I loved every bit of that house- I immediately felt at home there. It was SO indicative of Maddie and the young woman she had grown to be. 

I loved Maddie’s room most of all. There were mementos from every stage of her life around the room: a worn stuffed rabbit and two beautiful china dolls from her childhood, some pressed flowers framed on the wall, a Girl Guides notebook, books that she had read in grammar school, a picture of sixteen-year-old Maddie astride her motorbike. I paused to look at a few photographs on her desk. There was a beautiful young woman with Maddie’s eyes and smile- her mother, who had died before Maddie could remember her. There was another of a rather dashing-looking fellow with a knockout smile and a mop of dark curls. He held a little girl on his lap; she wore a cap and a coat that looked like it was about to swallow her, but it was obviously a child-sized version of Maddie. 

I looked back at her. “Your father was quite handsome. He looks absolutely besotted with you.”

Maddie touched the photograph gently and smiled. “Gran said that he was. It was just the two of us, after my mum died. We were thick as thieves, apparently. Dad died rather young too, but I remember some about him. He liked to pick me up and twirl me around when he got home from work, and he always called me his ‘best girl.’ I remember that he always smelled like cherry tobacco, with a hint of motor oil. He worked at the shop with Granddad- he was supposed to take it over, once Granddad decided to retire. I still miss him, wish he could see how I’ve turned out. Mum too. I can only hope that I made them proud.”

I touched her shoulder gently. “You did. You’ve turned into a damned amazing woman.” I meant it too, because she is the most damned amazing woman I know. 

Maddie blushed at that comment- she’s modest to a fault, thinks too low of herself. She walked over to her bed and smoothed out the quilt that covered it. “We have a spare room that you could sleep in, if you want. But I was thinking…” she bit her lip, as if she was nervous about something. “If you wanted, you could bunk in here with me. The bed’s big enough for two, if you’re up to sleeping rather close together. It’ll be warmer- the spare room’s a bit drafty and damp.” 

I walked beside her, pretending to do a thorough examination of every area of the bed from head to frame, lifting up the quilt, examining under the bed, so on and so forth. It made Maddie giggle, and the giggle turned into full-blown laughter when I grasped her around the waist and pulled both of us onto the bed, mercilessly tickling her side. We were acting like ten-year-old girls instead of two fearless British military officers, but neither of us cared. 

“Of COURSE I want to sleep in here with you!” I said, laughing. “Wouldn’t have it any other way! We can stay up all night and tell each other our deepest darkest secrets, just like at Girl Guide camp.” We already knew each other’s secrets, of course- at least the ones that didn’t fall under the Official Secrets Act. Although I eventually told her all of those, too.

Maddie was gasping for air at this point, she was laughing so hard. I had won the battle and we both knew it. I rolled on top of her and sat up, pinning her to the bed. Tried to tickle under one of her arms and she shrieked, laughing even more. 

“Of course, I might change my mind if I find you kicking me in the night.”

She laughed again. “Me, kick you? No, I expect that YOU’LL be kicking me! Maybe it’ll be ME that kicks YOU out of the room.” 

We both dissolved into another fit of laughter at her pun. As we calmed down, I climbed off her and lay down beside her, throwing an arm over her stomach and nuzzling my nose into her cheek. I had never been afraid of showing physical affection to anyone, despite the fact that most people didn’t enjoy it as much as I did (the damned English are so cold and unaffectionate at times, and the Scots aren’t much better). Maddie never seemed to mind it, though, even at the beginning… by this point she was near as affectionate toward me as I was her. I kissed her cheek and squeezed her around the waist. “Couldn’t imagine spending my leave in a more wonderful way with a more wonderful person.” 

Maddie looked at me and beamed. “I was just thinking the same thing. Not so sad about being grounded now.”

We were so warm and cozy on the bed that we both fell asleep right then and there, all nestled together, and didn’t wake until we heard her gran come in two hours later.

 

Maddie

I woke up with a start when I heard the door slam. Julie did, too. I had turned onto my side as I slept and snuggled close to her, with my arms pressed against her chest and my face against her shoulder. Her arms were still wrapped around me. We untangled from each other quickly- I tried not to look as sheepish as I felt. We hadn’t done anything wrong, but if Gran had seen us she may have thought it… improper… for two young women to be sleeping together like that. Beryl and I had slept in the same bed countless times, and other friends too, but I’d never woken up next to any of THEM like that. Rarely kissed them on the cheek, either, only when we hadn’t seen each other in a while. Seemed like I was ALWAYS kissing Julie’s cheeks, or that she was kissing mine. Or my forehead, or my hands. Sometimes it made me feel nervous- not nervous in a bad way, necessarily, but in an unusual way. A stomach full of butterflies, as Gran liked to say. 

Sometimes, late at night as I lay in bed, I imagined what it would be like to kiss her on the lips, just like Beryl had admitted that she had done with Harry, a classmate of ours from school. For some reason, I didn’t feel dirty imagining it with Julie, even though I know it should’ve (I’d heard rumors about “those sort” of women, whispered about by the other girls in the WAAF, but never discussed openly). I had tried imagine kissing a few times before, with boys from my class when I was younger, but it felt strange whenever I did, like something just wasn’t quite right. But not about her- about us. I would never, ever say anything to her, though. EVER. I knew that she didn’t feel the same way about me, couldn’t. Julie liked men, loved flirting with them and dancing with them. And she was so beautiful, and was always the center of attention. Although she HAD confessed, to my surprise, that she’d never had a boyfriend (“the problem of going to all-girls’ schools your whole life”), and had only ever kissed two lads. The first was a classmate of her brother Jamie’s at Eton who had come to visit their castle when she was around 15, and she said it was an absolutely awful experience. “Spit ALL OVER my face, then tried to stick his tongue down my throat. Nearly choked me to death. Yeccchh.” (Julie was never one to spare the more embarrassing or disgusting details- she gave too much information where other girls would have demurred). The second was a Polish pilot at Maidsend, who she said was considerably better. She never took it any farther, though, because she found him to be “frightfully boring.” Otherwise, she claimed to be too busy to pursue a relationship. I wasn’t sure how much she actually wanted to be in a relationship, really- she seemed to love the flirting and the leadup, “the game” as she called it, but always seemed to lose interest before it got physical.

When Julie and I began to get close, I had never kissed anyone, ever, and it had been her mission when we were both at Maidsend to set me up with one of the pilots. “You don’t have to MARRY him, just kiss him!” she said. She fancied me with Kim Lyons, the vicar’s boy who wouldn’t dance and who I liked to talk about maps with. I thought it was a lost cause- if he wouldn’t dance with me, surely he wouldn’t kiss me! And I really wasn’t that interested in kissing him at all, to be honest. But to my shock, one night we were jawing on about maps and planes as usual, when he just leaned in and kissed me. I tried to kiss him back, at least at first, because I thought I was supposed to, but it just didn’t feel right- his saliva got all over my face, his tongue felt like a giant slug writing around in my mouth, and his cologne was cloying. I pulled away, thanked him (thanked him? What was I thinking?), and immediately ran off like a shy schoolgirl. I told Julie all about it immediately (of course- she would have been horribly offended if I hadn’t), and she was INCREDIBLY sweet and reassuring. “The first kiss is usually awful, everyone I know says so. Just need to wait for the right person, then you’ll have quite a bit of fun,” she said, rubbing my shoulder and wiping my cheeks (I am SUCH a dratted BABY- crying over a failed first kiss. Surprised anyone keeps me around). 

Gosh- got a bit off track didn’t I? 

Once Gran and Granddad got home, Julie and I helped Gran prepare dinner. Gran was thrilled to have a guest, especially that the guest was Julie. “Maddie talks about you always” she said, which made me blush the color of a tomato and which prompted Julie to respond that the pleasure was really hers, that I was always telling HER about THEM. 

We had a wonderful dinner- Julie was a superb guest, asking them loads of questions about what I was like growing up, laughing raucously at their stories, and sharing some of her own. I could tell she was being a bit reserved with the name-dropping that she sometimes gave- didn’t want them to think that she was unapproachable (as if anyone could ever think that). We sat at the dinner table for over an hour, then moved to the sitting room for two hours more in front of the fire. It was lovely.

Granddad’s surprise turned out not to be cake (REALLY, where did Julie think he was going to get a cake in wartime?), but petrol that he got off the black market so that we could take my motorbike out for a picnic the next day. I was ecstatic, jumped up and gave him a massive hug and kiss. Gran had somehow managed to come across an extra loaf of bread for sandwiches, and was going to give us some pickled onions and a thermos of tea to take along for the picnic, just like when Beryl and I went the time we saw Dympna crash her plane. The weather would be awful, but we both vowed to put that aside and make it absolutely the best day ever. 

We were both dead tired by bedtime, but didn’t go to sleep for a while yet. I was in such a fantastic mood that I even let Julie have a go at my eyebrows with her tweezers. She had wanted to pluck them for ages- “You’ve got absolutely GORGEOUS brows, a wonderful natural shape, they just need a bit of taming!”- and she delightedly sat cross-legged in front of me on my bed and plucked them for 30 minutes. “PERFECT” she pronounced once she had finished. “You’re a knockout anyway, but you’re just a more refined knockout now.” She declared that tomorrow night she was going to do my makeup. I groaned in mock annoyance, but was secretly excited at the prospect.

We both changed into our nightwear after she had finished with my brows. No WAAF men’s-issue pajamas for us tonight. I had a drab flannel nightgown, the same one I’d worn since I was 15. Quite embarrassing to wear in front of people, but it was warm and comfortable. Julie, of course, had expensive-looking silk pajamas, but she declared that she would much rather wear a nightgown like mine, and she bullied me into giving her one of my extras. It was a bit long for her in the arms- she had to roll up the sleeves- but she somehow managed to make the ill-fitting nightgown look pretty and feminine. She had a way of making ANYTHING she wore look pretty and feminine. 

I lounged under the covers and watched as she let her hair down from its prim chignon and let it flow down her back. She took out her hairbrush and began to brush out the tangles.

“I always wanted hair like yours.” I said jealously. “I can never DO anything with mine.” My hair could really be a pain in the rear. Too short and I looked like a poodle, too long and I could never get the tangles out. Terribly boring. And during humid days, it really seemed to take on a life of its own. 

Julie did her hair into a loose plait. “You stop. Your hair is lovely and you know it. If you want in on a secret, I’ve always wanted curls.” She turned out the light and climbed in next to me in bed. “There’s no use in pining over what you can’t change. You’re perfect just as you are- don’t let anyone tell you that you aren’t.”

I turned on to my side (my normal sleeping position), and could feel her warmth at my back. She squeezed my forearm, kissed my shoulder, buried her face in my hair for a moment before pulling away and settling down for sleep. The last thing I remember her saying before I fell asleep will stay with me forever: “Goodnight, Maddie, my love.” Her love. Me.


	2. DAY TWO- JULIE AT DAWN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julie, reminiscing in bed before the start of the second day of leave.

DAY TWO- DAWN

Julie

I woke up before Maddie. She had gone to sleep with her back facing me, but had turned toward me in her sleep. Dawn sunlight was just beginning to trickle in, and I could make out her features in the half-light: the slightly upturned nose, dotted with freckles; small rosebud lips; long eyelashes. I reached out and brushed a stray curl off of her forehead, barely letting my fingers ghost against her face- didn’t want to wake her. 

She looked so peaceful as she slept, more vulnerable somehow. Maddie often claimed that she was a baby, that she cried too easily, that she was too soft. Utter bullshit, in my opinion. Maddie was one of the toughest people that I will ever know. Even when she was absolutely terrified, she was able to bury it somewhere within her, pull herself together, and DO SOMETHING. And the way she flew those planes- I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t do it at all. She was brave, and strong, and true. But one of my favorite parts about our friendship was that she let me see her vulnerabilities. She could cry in front of me. She could tell me that she was afraid, that she felt embarrassed, that she often didn’t think very highly of herself, that she was self-conscious. I let her in, too. I often presented myself to the world as bold, fearless, carefree. That I could take on the world and conquer it. But I let Maddie know my fears, and my insecurities, and how much I needed her and missed her when we were apart. 

I was a bit of a fool the night before, calling her “my love.” I always used terms of endearment with her- darling, dear, all that tosh. But that afternoon and evening, all I could think about was how much I loved her. How much I was IN love with her. And it just slipped out. I prayed that she didn’t notice, or didn’t take it seriously if she did. God, it breaks my heart to admit how true it was, and how I knew it could never be. She couldn’t feel the same way about me as I did her, and even if she DID- where would it take us? Even if we survived the war all intact, what future would we have? My eldest brother had a friend from university who was a homosexual- all of the chums knew it, never spoke about it but never cast him out for it, either. He had tried to hide it from his family, but he was caught in bed with his lover. They completely disowned him, wouldn’t fund his education anymore, no inheritance or anything of the sort. He was completely alone, and then the rumors started flying in society. Couldn’t get himself a job, was almost totally destitute. My brother and their friends would lend him money, but they couldn’t keep it up forever. He couldn’t face the pain and rejection anymore, and ended up shooting himself in the head. What a terrible ending to a terrible story. I couldn’t bear it, not for Maddie or myself. I didn’t know what was worse- knowing that my love was unrequited, or if she DID love me back, knowing that there wasn’t a place for us in the public world. Makes me want to cry, to think about it. 

I was expected to marry when the war was over. That was just how it was done- get married to the son of a nobleman, of similar rank and stature as me, have a load of kiddies and travel back and forth between London and Scotland or Hampshire or South Africa, wherever the family home was. Dress stylishly, look gorgeous and unaffected. Maybe I could have done it before the war, PRETENDED, just like I usually did. I was so good at pretending. But after the war, after meeting Maddie, I just couldn’t. No way no how. 

I’d had crushes on other girls before, at school. Kissed other girls, too, said that we were just “practicing” for our beaus and husbands later on. Many of us did that- had to, there were no boys around! I knew that I didn’t really fancy chaps, though, had known from the time that the other girls started paying attention to boys. Knew because I wasn’t paying attention to boys, I was paying attention to THEM. I had tried to like men, really tried. I enjoyed flirting with them, leading them on, but it was just a game. Once it became physical, I couldn’t do it. Lost track, couldn’t continue. 

The only one who knew my secret was Jamie. I’d told him slightly before the war, when we were both home from university. We both cried- me for the love that I was convinced I would miss out on, the love that I thought I didn’t deserve because it was “dirty” and “sinful,” him for the way others would treat me if they knew, because they wouldn’t understand. That’s when he told me the story of our brother’s friend- I didn’t know it before, had been too little to understand when it happened. Although- this is one of the many reasons why Jamie is my most favorite brother- he promised me, PROMISED ME, that he would never let that happen to me. That we would keep it a secret. That if I ever fell in love with someone, ever needed a place to go to be with her, that no matter where he was or what he was doing, he would help me find a place for us. “I’m your big brother,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. “That means I’ll always love you and always protect you, no matter what.” 

I can see us now- sitting under one of the trees, staring at the castle from afar. Me with my head on his shoulder, having just finished crying my eyes out, after I told him that I didn’t even deserve to love ANYONE, since I was sinning in the face of God and man. That got him, made him cry like I hadn’t seen him cry since we were children. “Don’t ever say that you don’t deserve love” he choked out. “Just because it’s a different kind of love than the rest of us feel, doesn’t mean it’s not wonderful, and beautiful.” That’s the only thing that got me through- knowing that even if there wasn’t yet a place for my love in society, that at least I deserved to love, should be able to love. That if I did someday find a woman that I loved, that even if we couldn’t be together in public, couldn’t marry or be recognized under the law or by the Church, that Jamie could maybe help us find a private place, a place all to our own. 

I hadn’t intended to fall for Maddie. I had tried to put all of my non-essential feelings aside, wanted to focus on the war, focus on beating those bloody Nazi bastards. But I realized that I enjoyed spending time with her, that being with her was the absolute best part of my day. Then I started noticing things about her that I hadn’t noticed before, imagining things I hadn’t imagined before. I wanted to brush my knuckles against her face, run my fingers through her wonderful curls, hold her hand and twine our fingers together. Late at night, alone in my bunk, I imagined what it would be like to kiss her full on the mouth, to move the kisses down her neck, and lower still… It made me feel quite hot and bothered, in places where I was NOT used to feeling hot and bothered. I began to put two and two together, and realized that she was more than a best friend to me, that I was totally and completely in love with her. I could never tell her though, EVER. It’d ruin everything. But it didn’t keep me from imagining things, or hoping beyond hope that she felt the same. Or, late at night, wondering - in the unlikely case that she loved me like I loved her- if I could tell Jamie about us, that maybe he could help us find a place where we could be together, just like he’d promised, a place where we could love each other freely, where we weren’t made to feel sinful or dirty. Where we could just LOVE. 

I always felt like I was getting ahead of myself, thinking things like that. At that moment, we were just Maddie and Julie, the very best of friends. 

As I lay in bed looking at her, Maddie’s eyes fluttered open. She smiled at me. “Are you well?” she asked. 

I smiled back. “Right as rain. Just a bit chilly.” Don’t know WHY I said that, was quite warm, really. 

“I’ll warm you up, then,” she said, pulling me close to her. She settled my head right below her chin and kissed it (I wish she knew how much I ached for her, then) and we settled in for another hour or so of sleep, ready to take on the adventures of the day to come.


	3. DAY TWO

DAY TWO

Maddie

I didn’t care that the weather was absolutely beastly- Julie and I were going on a motorbike ride, no ifs-ands-or-buts about it. 

Gran made us breakfast that morning (Julie pronounced it “superb,” even though there wasn’t any butter for the toast and we had to split an egg), and packed us a small picnic lunch. Gran thought I was crazy to want a picnic, but I had been envisioning a picnic with Julie for months, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I knew of an abandoned barn that we could stop in to eat- it would do to keep the sleet off of us, and because it would be cold I DID bring a nice warm blanket to wrap around ourselves as we ate. Granddad had the petrol all ready for us, too. It would be a WONDERFUL afternoon, I would make sure of it.

Julie wore her own blouse, but I made her wear one of my skirts and a couple of my old jumpers- her clothes were all NICE, and I hated for them to get ruined in the mud and sleet (I remember how mad Beryl’s dad was when she ruined her best skirt, and it wasn’t even sleeting then!). 

“You’re being ridiculous,” Julie scoffed. “You should know by now that I’m not afraid of getting dirty.” But she went along with it, her reason being that she’d never had a sister to share clothes with, so this felt like the closest thing. No stockings for either of us, even though Julie had brought a pair and I had a pair at home- stockings were hard enough to come by, and I wouldn’t risk us ruining them on the ride. Bare shins and cold legs for us, then!

Julie INSISTED on helping me tinker with the bike before we took it out. I jokingly gave her a hard time about it at first- “Her Ladyship is willing to get her lily-white hands dirty? Really?” (I only did it because I knew that she was most certainly willing to get her hands dirty) and Julie gave my arm a good pinch and called me a rather nasty name before jumping right in and doing everything I told her to do. I can’t explain how happy I was then, telling my absolute favorite person in the world about how one of my favorite things in the world worked. I wanted to burst with joy and love, and from the way Julie looked at me and beamed, I could tell that she felt the same way. “Two peas in a pod, we are,” she once said, and I had never felt it more than I did in that moment.

“Right, then” I said as I climbed on the bike and patted the seat behind me. “You go right here. Just put your arms ‘round my waist and hold on tight the whole time- wouldn’t want you to go flying off into a puddle!” Julie laughed and climbed on, and grabbed me so tight that I could hardly breathe. “Not THAT tight you idiot, you’ll kill me!” She laughed and loosened her grip, but not by much. 

Our bare legs were touching, and I could feel her breasts pressed against my back. Very intimate, and I found myself getting that strange feeling again, deep in my stomach and lower still, in areas that I never thought about or explored. “Get a grip on yourself!” I thought, trying to focus on driving the bike and not these other… distractions. Which shouldn’t even have been distractions- I was the one making myself distracted by them!

I put on my trusty goggles, then glanced back at Julie. “No goggles, for you, I’m afraid. If you feel like you’re getting sleet or mud or bugs in your eyes, you can just press your face against my back. I work quite well as a shield, Beryl says.” 

Julie laughed gleefully. “You underestimate me, Maddie Brodatt! I’ll be perfectly fine. And I don’t want to miss the view! I’ve heard you talk about it enough- I want to see it for myself!”

I reached back and rubbed her knee as a thank-you, and then- WE WERE OFF! Out of Stockport and into the country. Even though it was sleeting like mad, it was marvelous. I took Julie to all of my favorite haunts- up the Dark Peak, round to the place where we saw Dympna Wythenshaw crash her plane, then to the old barn where we would have our lunch. I hadn’t had much of a chance to talk with Julie throughout the ride- the bike is LOUD, and we had to shout. I just shouted to point things out, so she would know where we were, or why we were riding by a particular place. She would shout back, saying how beautiful it was, how happy she was. Things like that. 

“Look at us!” Julie said when I turned off the bike. We did look a bit silly- skirts up around our thighs (luckily no one was there to see us!), sleet all over our jackets and skirts, mud all up our calves. “Isn’t this WONDERFUL?” She leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. “That was one of the most fun things I’ve done in a while. I was almost in tears when we rode up the Dark Peak. It’s just as beautiful as I’d imagined. Thank you!”

I couldn’t help but blush at that!   
The barn was a nice place to stop for lunch. Kept all the sleet off us, and although it was still cold, we huddled under the woolen blanket that I packed, which kept us quite warm. 

After lunch, Julie sighed contentedly and snuggled next to me under the blanket, grabbing my hand and twining our fingers together. “This is one of the most wonderful afternoons of my life, Maddie darling,” she said. “I couldn’t be more happy that it’s with you.” 

I squeezed her hand. “I was just thinking the same thing. Two peas in a pod, we are.”

She laughed. “When this damned war is over, I want you to teach me how to drive your motorbike. I’m a fast learner, I promise.”

I was a bit startled by that statement- not by the fact that she wanted to learn how to drive the motorbike, but by the fact that in the whole history of our friendship, this was the first time that Julie had ever mentioned “after the war.” We had always talked about our pasts, or what was happening in the present, but never, ever the future. It was too fragile, too unknown. Better just to leave thoughts of the future unspoken. 

But since SHE was the one who brought it up… I did want to talk about the future. I wanted to talk about it with her, my very best friend, because I didn’t feel as if I could talk about it with anyone, not Gran or Granddad, not other ATA pilots, no one. No one except Julie.

“Remember when we went out on the bicycles at Maidsend and told each other all of our fears?”

Julie nodded. “Yes, of course. Could never forget that- it’s the day I realized that you were my best friend. One of the most important days in my life.”

I smiled at that. “Well, I have another top-ten fear. It’s rather silly, but... I’m afraid of the war ending. Not that I don’t want it to end, that I won’t be trilled when it does and England is safe again. But, I’m afraid of what will happen to me.” 

Julie looked puzzled. “What do mean by that?”

I brought our intertwined hands on to the top of the blanket and examined them, my rough fingers with her dainty, manicured ones. They couldn’t look more different from one another, yet they fit together perfectly. I stroked her thumb with my own, up and down, up and down.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do when the war ends. I’ve done a lot of things, but NONE that will help me after it’s over. Can’t be a radio operator, won’t be needed anymore. Can’t be a pilot- I don’t have my own plane, so I couldn’t even give lessons or joyrides, like Dympna did. I’ve only got a grammar school education- no money for uni, either. Gran wants me to take a typing course, so that I could be a secretary, perhaps down at Ladderall Mill, or if I’m lucky maybe in a law office in Stockport or Manchester.” I signed sadly. “But I don’t want to be a secretary! That’s not my purpose. I have purpose in the war- flying planes, THAT’S my purpose! But once the war’s over, that’s done. Don’t know how often I’ll have the chance to fly, after this is all through.” Made me want to cry just thinking about it. “What do you think you’ll do?” I asked Julie. “Go back to Oxford? Or Scotland?”

Julie was oddly quiet- it took her a while to come up with an answer. “To be honest I haven’t really thought about it. I don’t like thinking that far ahead. Things are just so precarious right now.” I knew she was referencing her new secretive, probably dangerous, role, whatever it was. She couldn’t tell me, but I knew that she wanted me to take the hint. She looked at me. “I’m not sure about going back to Oxford, though- I’m much different than I was before the war. Things that used to be important aren’t so important to me anymore, and things that didn’t used to matter mean the world to me now. You, for instance. I didn’t know you before the war started, but now… I don’t think I could go on after it’s all over without you being a major part of my life.”

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat at her mention of how much I meant to her. I had often wondered how our friendship would continue once the war was over. We were from two completely different worlds. I was from a world of motor oil and engines and working class bike shops, she was from a world of silk ball gowns and castles and royalty. How would these two worlds meet, when they were so clearly supposed to be apart? The war had mixed things up, had allowed the two of us to become the best of friends, but when it was over, were we expected to just forget about one another, to pretend that our two worlds hadn’t met in a beautiful and profound way?

It was Julie’s turn to examine our fingers. “Wherever I am, I want it to be with you. We’ll think of something- maybe I could get a flat in Stockport to be near you and your grandparents, or we could find a place together somewhere else. I don’t know what we’ll do, but we could decide that later. Just want to make sure that we’re together…” She glanced back at me. “But only if you want it, too.” 

I looked down at my lap, suddenly shy. All of this was hard to comprehend- Julie would be willing to live in STOCKPORT, which was most certainly NOT a metropolitan center of excellence, to be close to me. I took a moment to gather my thoughts, and then willed myself to look back at her.

“Of course I want that, more than anything,” I whispered. “But what will others think? I’m not… I’m not posh, you know that.”

Julie reached up and placed a hand on my cheek. “You of all people should know that I’ve never given a damn about whether you’re “posh” or not, and that I couldn’t care less of what other people think about me… or about us. I just care about you and me being together, that’s all.”

She was staring intently at me. If I was braver, I would have leaned in and kissed her. But I wasn’t brave- I didn’t know what she would think. I didn’t want to ruin the moment. And so I didn’t kiss her, although I desperately wanted to. 

Instead I leaned against her and put my head on her shoulder. We sat like that for a while, hands clasped, breathing in unison. Two peas in pod. The very best of friends.

Julie

The day we took Maddie’s motorbike out for the picnic was one of the absolute best days of my life. I didn’t care that it was sleeting the whole time (except for about five minutes- a divine intervention, I would say), or that it was cold- the whole trip was absolutely wonderful. I finally was able to see for myself the setting of so many of Maddie’s stories- where Dympna had gone down in her plane, where Maddie and her Girl Guide troop camped on the week-end, where Maddie had gone of the road on her motorbike when she was sixteen and broken her collarbone. The picnic was just the cherry on top of a wonderful day- the food was simple and wonderful, and it was an absolute delight to be warm and cozy under the blanket with my best friend. For much of the day, I was even able to forget that there was a war on- I felt like a civilian again, which was supremely wonderful.

After another rousing dinner with Maddie’s gran and granddad (I SO wished that they were my grandparents! My own grandparents were fine, of course, but both my grandfathers had died long before I was born, and my grandmothers were both sweet but slightly distant dowagers who were content to watch children from afar- much different than Maddie’s lovely gran, who kissed my cheek when I came in and insisted on hanging up my coat), Maddie and I made our way up to her room to close out the evening. We took turns in the bath- it was SO wonderful to have a long, relaxing bath! Much better than at the barracks, where you’re made to take a cold shower surrounded by twenty other naked girls. It had been SO LONG since I had a good bath, and I loved every second of it. 

After my bath, I let Maddie brush out my hair. It was long, down to my waist, and it had gotten quite tangled during the day. I thought she wouldn’t have the patience to work with it, but Maddie stated that she adored my hair and couldn’t get enough of touching it (I would say the same thing about hers- she took a brief nap in the barn and laid her head in my lap, and I stroked her hair all the while. I loved her curls). She continued brushing even after all the tangles were out, and it felt SO GOOD. It was so wonderful to be a bit pampered, even in the small ways of a hot bath and having someone else brush your hair and massage your scalp. 

“What time do you need to be back tomorrow?” she asked. I noticed that she did not specify WHERE I needed to be back to… smart girl, Maddie. 

“I need to be back by six sharp. I suppose that means I’ll leave here ‘round ten then, after breakfast.” I sighed glumly. “I wish I didn’t have to go back, though. If I could I would just stay here forever. Would your gran and granddad mind taking on a boarder?”

Maddie laughed. “I’m sure they’d love it, if the boarder was YOU! They adore you, you know.”

I blushed. “Oh, they flatter me. I adore them just as much. Not nearly as much as I adore you, though.” I then watched HER blush. I kissed her on the cheek as I got up and made my way to the bed. I was wearing Maddie’s old nightgown again. I LOVED it. Wonderfully comfortable and warm, but the thing I loved best was that it smelled like her. I loved the way Maddie smelled- just the slightest trace of motor oil, a slight whiff of the soap she always used, but mostly something else that I could only describe as being purely MADDIE. 

We climbed in bed next to each other, dressed just alike. Two peas in a pod. We had planned on staying up a bit and talking, so Maddie had pulled down the blackout curtains over the windows and left the lamp beside the bed on. We talked about nonsense for a while- the time when I taught her to foxtrot at Maidsend and she stepped all over my feet; the time when I unexpectedly started my cycle three days early (we were in the canteen, of all places, when I discovered it, where ANYONE could have seen), and Maddie saved me from utter mortification by discreetly rushing around Maidsend to find me sanitary towels and clean knickers and a skirt; Maddie’s awful first kiss with the vicar’s boy when she came to me crying afterwards (we found it funny later, but when it happened she was dreadfully upset). It was so nice, to just reminisce, to remember the lighter times amidst the difficulty of war. 

Maddie grew quiet, and I assumed that she dozed off. However, then I heard the sniffles, and realized that she was crying. I sat up in bed.

“What’s wrong, darling?” I asked, rubbing her cheek with the back of my hand. “You grew awfully blue all of a sudden.”

She smiled at me through the tears. “Sorry- just got sad thinking about the fact that you’re leaving tomorrow. It’s been an absolute joy to have you stay. Wish you didn’t have to leave. I don’t know what I’ll do without you.”

I cupped the back of her head in my hand and smiled back at her. “You’ll get on, just like you always do. We’ll keep writing letters every week- those letters are what keep ME going, I assure you. You’ll fly your planes. You’ll keep your gran and granddad company.” I twined my fingers in her curls. “And just know that what I said when you left Maidsend remains true. If you need me, for whatever reason, I’ll come to you. Some way, some how, I’ll come to you. I promise.” That promise was the most dangerous thing I’d ever said, but also the most honest. I would be in a world of trouble if I left my duties (court martial, dishonorable discharge, prison), but the ONLY person in the world I would do it for was Maddie. And I’d do it for her in a heartbeat, without thinking twice. Was so in love with her that I’d do it.

And then I realized I’d said the last bit out loud. “I’m so in love with you.” SHIT. I hadn’t meant to say that. How mortifying. I felt myself growing hot, wanted to up and leave. But there was nowhere to go.

Maddie didn’t look repulsed, though, as I was afraid she would. She looked… peaceful. Happy, with a hint of a smile. She whispered, dead quiet, “I love you, too.” She placed her hand on my cheek. “Julie, I… I’m in love with you too. So much it makes my heart want to burst.”

I felt the tension leave my body in rivers. I felt filled up with something completely new- joy, with a hint of nervousness. “Do you really? For how long?”

She got chocked up again, and nodded. “Yes. For… a while now.”

I stroked the back of her head again. “And today, in the barn… did you want to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss you?”

Another nod.

And then it happened, the event I’d longed for for so long. We both moved in at the same time, lips touching softly. It was careful, and slow, and a bit timid. No gasping open mouths, no tongues jutting in and out, no lip movement really. Just a gentle kiss. We pulled back at the same time and smiled shyly at one another. Maddie ducked her head down into my shoulder. 

“Hey,” I whispered, close to her ear. “Want to leave it at that or do you want to continue?”

I could feel her smile against my shoulder, through the fabric of the nightgown. “Continue,” she whispered.

And so we continued. It was slow, at first. Both of us were quite new to it, quite new to each other in this fashion, really. I rolled on top of her and kissed her lips for a while, gently biting her lower lip, SLOWLY meeting her tongue with mine (really, Jamie’s friend from Eton should’ve gotten a lesson from me- it’s quite a wonderful sensation when done correctly). She loosened my hair from its plait and ran her hands through it, ‘til it was long and loose down my back. Ran her hands all over my back- it felt HEAVENLY. I moved from her lips to her ear, which made her gasp, then on to her neck. Touched different places on her body, always asking permission first. Once I started she opened up a bit and was less tentative, touched me in the same spots that I was touching her. Finally, after I was getting QUITE hot and bothered, I whispered that I was going to take my nightgown off, just partially. I unbuttoned the top half and shrugged it off of my shoulders- I was completely naked at the waist. A bit cooler, plus it gave easier access to certain parts that I was dying for her to touch. And touch them she did, in more ways then one. Then she shrugged off her nightgown and I did the same to her. We switched positions quite a bit- sometimes I was on top and in control, sometimes she was. It was a bit like dancing- an odd form of dancing, but similar all the same. 

I don’t know how long this went on- quite a while. Finally, we both realized that we were just absolutely exhausted. We made ourselves “decent” again- nightgowns back on and buttoned up. We decided to fall asleep in each others’ arms. I had never been so happy in my life. Before we went to sleep, I heard Maddie give a little laugh.

“What are you so giddy about?” I asked.

“You were right,” she whispered. “After I was so upset about Kim, you said the first kiss is always awful. Once you find the right partner, it’s quite fun. And you’re right- that was quite enjoyable after all.”

I gave her a quick peck on the lips so that she knew I agreed. We both fell asleep with a smile on our faces. The perfect end to a perfect day.


	4. DAY THREE

Maddie

When I woke up that morning, I wasn’t sure whether it had all happened, or whether it was just a wonderful, blissful dream. Had Julie really said that she loved me? Had Julie really kissed me? Had we really kissed and touched each other, shy at first but growing less timid the more we went along? Had we really fallen asleep holding each other? It seemed so like the dreams that I had been having, but the wonderful truth was that it was REAL.

I looked at Julie, who was still fast asleep in my arms. I loved watching Julie sleep- she seemed purer somehow, more innocent, without the force of her personality to fall back on. She confessed to me once, during one of the bombing raids at Maidsend when we huddled together in our men’s pajamas and shared a cigarette to calm my nerves and pass the time, that most of it was an act. The foul language and the flirtatiousness and the fearlessness and the steely resolve- she had developed it as a sort of armor when she was a child, having to fend for herself with five big brothers. The older she got, the better she perfected it, until it became a part of her, made her seem bigger than she was, a true force to be reckoned with, despite her small size. Julie was truly TINY- she scarcely stood an inch over five feet tall, four inches shorter than I was and at least twenty pounds lighter. That’s QUITE tiny, really, since I’m just a “slip of a lass” myself!   
She looked so delicate in my arms. She was so pale that I could make out the blue of the veins in her forehead and behind her eyelids. I bent over and placed light kisses to both of her eyelids. Her eyes fluttered open at that, and she gave me a sleepy smile. I leaned forward and kissed her again, this time on her lips. It was a soft, gentle kiss, and I felt her smile grow beneath my own lips. I felt a little like I was melting.

“What a way to be woken up” Julie murmured when we broke apart, nestling into the soft hollow between my neck and shoulder. She breathed in and out slowly. “I love the way you smell. If I could bottle it up and wear it as a perfume, I would.” 

“Really?” I didn’t smell BAD (Gran would rather die than let me out of the house smelling like body odor) but I wasn’t like Julie. I didn’t wear Chanel No. 5 on a daily basis, and I was always self-conscious that I had a bit of a whiff of motor oil about me. I was always tinkering with something – bicycles, motorbikes, cars, or planes, whatever I could get my hands on. I smelled more like an automechanic than anything- it wasn’t very feminine at all. 

“Mmmhmm,” Julie answered, her lips tickling my neck. “You smell like you- and that’s why I love it so much. Because I love YOU so much.” She started kissing my neck, and I felt myself melting all over again, inside and outside and all over.

After a few glorious minutes of kissing my neck, collarbone, and ears (THAT was a new experience that sent shudders down my spine in the best way possible), she paused briefly- “What time is it?” 

“Five,” I answered, breathless and wishing she would hurry up and continue with the kissing. 

“Good. That gives us plenty of time.” And with that, Julie sat up, peeled off her bulky flannel nightgown in one fell swoop, and bent down to kiss me deeply. And then… nothing but bliss, pure bliss.

 

After, I lay in Julie’s arms, my head nestled against her bare chest. There was no place that I would rather have been then right there, at that instant, lying skin to skin with the dearest person in the world to me. 

“I wish you weren’t going away,” I whispered. “It’s awful, not knowing when I’ll see you next.” 

Julie brought my hand to her mouth and kissed my fingers one by one. “I know. Breaks my heart just to think about it.” She paused. “If this was one of my awful romance novels, we would just run away together, elope. Make our way to Gretna Green, our families be damned.”   
“But we’re not in one of your awful romance novels” I replied, my voice thick. “If we ran off together, you’d be thrown into prison for desertion. I’d be thrown out of the ATA and stripped of my pilot’s license, and maybe thrown into prison, too, just for good measure. We can’t. We can’t, we can’t, we can’t.” 

I didn’t say it, but we couldn’t get married, either. Not at Gretna Green or anywhere else. Two women couldn’t get married, as much as we may want to. But oh, God, at that moment, I wanted to marry her and be with her forever, so badly that I wanted to burst. We couldn’t even write love letters to one another- I’d heard of others, men and women, who had been caught that way. Had to be dead discreet, even though I wanted nothing more than to climb on the roof and shout of my love for her for the whole world to hear.

“Let’s pretend that we can, though- just for a moment,” Julie whispered into my ear. Her hand idly stroked my hair. “We would steal out of here, right now, while the rest of the world is just waking up. Naught but a suitcase to our name, and the clothes on our backs. We’d go away, far away, where the war couldn’t touch us, to the most remote area of Scotland that we could find. We’d find a house, a house big enough for just the two of us, with some chickens in the yard and sheep in the fields. We’d make the house a home. And in our home, our very own home, I’d give you a ring, and say ‘Margaret Brodatt, will you be mine forever and ever?’ And you’d say, ‘Yes, I will.’ And you’d give me a ring, and say ‘Julia Beaufort-Stuart, my Julie, will you be mine forever and ever?’ And I’d say ‘Forever and ever and a day beyond that.’ And then you would kiss me, and I would grab your arm and lead you to our big wonderful bed, and we would make love until we were too exhausted to make love anymore, and then we would sleep for a while and wake up and do it again.”

“And then what?” I asked.

“And then we would live happily ever after.” I could feel Julie’s face pull into a smile against my forehead. “Whatever that means.”

“I would like that,” I whispered. “I would like that more than anything.”

We lay together quietly for a few more moments, breathing at the same time, feeling as if we were one. 

It couldn’t last though- at some point, the spell had to be broken. Julie was the one who broke it. She leaned forward and snapped on the light, then placed a gentle kiss on my forehead. “I’ve got to get up, love. I want to have a bath before going back- nothing but cold showers for me for the next long while.” 

Julie got up and put on the bathrobe that I had leant her before making her way to the bathroom. I lay in bed for a moment, before I set my eyes on Julie’s makeup case. I rarely wore makeup- I was too heavy-handed, in that as in in all things, and I just ended up turning myself into a clown. But I needed the makeup now- I had an idea, a way that Julie could keep a token of my love with her, no matter where she was.

I grabbed a tube of her lipstick and ran it round my lips, as careful as I dared. Then, grabbing a piece of my stationary, I pressed my lips against the paper, leaving a perfect imprint of them on the paper. I quickly wrote a message on it- nothing that would get her in too much trouble (I hoped) if she was caught with it (I did hope she would keep it well-hidden, though- it was for her eyes only). 

“With all of the love in my being, and then some. Yours forever- M.” 

I set the note on her small travel case, re-applied the lipstick (I wasn’t too bad at it, really), put some of Julie’s powder makeup on my face, quickly dressed, and attempted to tame my hair. When Julie came in from the bathroom, she took one look at me before exclaiming, “Maddie Brodatt, are you wearing lipstick?” She moved closer to me, to examine further. “I TOLD you that color looked wonderful on you. And you powdered you face, too. You have no idea how impressed I am.” 

I laughed. “You’ve started to rub off on me, after all this time.”

Julie snorted. “I don’t want to rub off on you too much- one of me is plenty, I assure you!”

She dressed and did up her hair in her usual chignon. She was nearly finished packing when she noticed my note. She picked it up, read it quickly, and then stood still, staring at it, for what felt like an eternity. She looked over at me, eyes full of tears. 

“For when you want to kiss me but can’t,” I said. “For when you want to know that I love you, but I’m not there to say it. For when you need me.” My voice cracked at “need me.” 

Julie let out a quiet sob, and then pounced on me, pushing me onto the bed and pressing desperate kisses to my face. 

“I love you- love you so much” she breathed against my mouth. 

“I love you too,” I said, my voice filled with longing. “I love you more than anything and anyone. Always will.”

I pulled her as tightly to me as I could, and we lay together on my bed, crying quietly and pressing hot kisses to each other’s mouths. How were we going to make ourselves presentable? We couldn’t go five minutes without crying or kissing. 

We had to go soon, to eat breakfast and get to the train station, or Julie wouldn’t be back to… wherever she had to go… in time. I sat up suddenly. “We’re running out of time. I wish we had more time, but we don’t. I’ll go first, I’ll get up and wash my face.” 

Julie sniffed. “Don’t look back at me. If you look back at me you won’t go.”

“I know.” 

I made my way to the bathroom. I furiously scrubbed my face clean, until all traces of lipstick- mine and hers- were gone. I looked like myself again, but I knew I was different, so different inside. Where it mattered. 

When I came back into the room, Julie was sitting up on my bed, looking away from me. She had wiped off her own face and reapplied her makeup, done up her hair again in its neat two-inches-above-the-collar regulation chignon. 

When she saw me enter, she got up and walked toward me with a pinched smile on her face, then took my hand in hers and slipped something onto the ring finger of my left hand. I looked at my hand, and saw a beautiful ring. I knew immediately what it was- it was Julie’s grandmother’s wedding ring, a small French square cut ruby. It had been in her family for ages, and I knew it meant the world to her. I pressed a gentle kiss to her lips- nothing desperate, nothing that would get us carried away. 

“I want you to have this,” she said, and then kissed the ring, still on my finger. “It’s a part of me that you’ll have with you all the time. Know that I’ve worn it, that I’ve kissed it, and that it’s my promise to you that I’ll come back to you. That you’ll be mine forever.” 

“This means… so much” I choked. “So, so much.” I looked at it on my finger, shining in the light. It was the closest thing to a wedding ring I’d ever have with her. I couldn’t wear it on my finger all the time- too many questions would be asked- but I wanted to have it with me wherever I went. I turned to my desk and rummaged around in my jewelry box, until I found what I was looking for. It was a small gold chain- nothing fancy, but it had belonged to my mother. It had once held a small charm that had broken off when I was thirteen, and I hadn’t found another use for the necklace, but couldn’t bear to part with it. I took the ring off my finger and slid the chain through the ring. Julie came over and helped me fasten it around my neck. 

“Now I can have it by my heart always.” I brought her hand to my mouth and kissed her palm. “I love you. I love you to the moon and back and back again. Every time you look at my note you’ll remember it. Every time I feel this ring around my neck I’ll remember it.” 

Julie smiled, but before she could respond, I heard Gran’s door shut down the hall.   
“Come girls, we must get our Julie to the train station!” My heart squeezed when Gran referred to her as “our Julie.” She’d imprinted on more hearts than mine.

Julie mouthed, “I love you,” then grabbed her suitcase and left my room. I prayed that it wasn’t for the last time.

Julie

The train ride back to base was so lonely that I can scarcely write about it. 

We couldn’t even properly say goodbye at the train station- far too public. I gave her a kiss on the cheek- just two chums having a friendly goodbye- then lingered by her ear for just a moment to whisper “I’ll love you forever, Maddie Brodatt.” She nodded, tears rolling down her face, trying not to sob. 

“You come back to me,” she said, voice thick with emotion.

“I will. I promise.” 

And then I left her. As the train pulled away from the station, I stared as her figure got smaller and smaller in the distance, one arm up in a wave. I stared until she disappeared. And then I put my face in my hands and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed.


	5. Epilogue

May 8, 1945. They’re calling today “V-E Day”- Victory in Europe Day. Germany has surrendered. The war in Europe is over. 

I’ve been at war for 6 years. I was eighteen when it started, little more than a schoolgirl with a fascination of motorbikes and airplanes. Now I’m nearly twenty-five, a grown woman who has lived far more in her twenty-four years than many have lived in a lifetime. I’ve been a British military officer, a pilot, a spy, a fugitive, and, in the eyes of some, a war hero. I shot down an enemy plane, I flew to France under fire and crash-landed a broken plane, and I rescued a group of prisoners from certain death. I tipped Doodlebug bombs and survived the London Blitz and flew more planes than I could count. I made a best friend. I gained a new family. I fell in love. 

As I joined the throngs of celebrants in London, I was struck by how sad I was, despite all the happiness of the moment. I thought to how many lives had been lost for us to come to this moment, for us to finally come to peace- so many that I had known had given up their lives for all of us to be HERE, right now. I reached into my shirt to pull out the ring that rested against my heart. It’s become a habit of mine- when I’m scared, or sad, or happy, or really anything- I grasp the ring and think of Julie. Think of how she loves me. It makes me feel almost as if she’s with me… almost. 

“Maddie!” 

I hear my name over the noise of the crowds. Someone is calling out to me.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she pants, out of breath after having jogged to catch up to me. She still worries about losing me, even though nearly two years have passed since our ordeal in France. She’s gained all the weight she lost back, but, like the scars on her body that are neatly covered with clothing, there are other scars below the surface, scars that don’t heal so easily. 

She grasps my hand, and we walk together. No one notices that we’re holding hands, mingling in with the countless others who have gathered on the streets. 

“The war’s over, Maddie.” Julie gives me one of her beaming smiles, the smiles that I thought were lost forever after Ormaie. They’re less frequent now than they used to be, but they come from time to time. When they come, it usually has something to do with me. “The war’s over. We can go HOME.”

We still haven’t decided where home will be. Perhaps Scotland, perhaps Stockport, perhaps London. Julie has even mentioned South Africa, but she still hasn’t quite convinced me yet (if I thought Kent was far away from Gran and Grandad, what would I do in South Africa). But it doesn’t matter where we live. For me, Julie will always, ALWAYS, be home.


End file.
